


An Impractical Guide to the Force

by Antony444



Category: A Practical Guide to Evil - erraticerrata, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antony444/pseuds/Antony444
Summary: Series of one-shot crossovers between A Practical Guide to Evil and Star WarsThe Jedi believed the Sith were the worst evil they would ever have to face in their lifetimes.But as some deities given the power to amuse themselves breaking the veil between dimensions can attest, there are worse things out in the multiverse...and this includes the Dread Emperors and Dread Empresses of Praes.Beware Jedi and other mortals, the true face of Evil is about to be unleashed on your unprepared galaxy...
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26





	1. A Practical Guide to Irritation

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for writing fanfiction in Star Wars came to me a while ago. Obviously, with the quantity of materials which exist about this galaxy, there is a lot of material and potential ‘what if?’ that can be played with.  
> However, I didn’t think to begin some work on it until I really began to read A Practical Guide to Evil. One setting is a space opera, the other is more medieval warfare crossed with Dungeon and Dragons and imagining the devastating consequences of tropes in a world. On the other hand...Dread Emperors with a megalomaniac ego? Check. Doom weapons which have a tendency to be destroyed by heroes not long after their commissioning? Check. The epic fight between ‘Good’ and ‘Evil’? Check.  
> It will be this role to imagine what could happen in Star Wars if some characters of A Practical Guide to Evil suddenly found their minds inserted into some of the most famous characters, be they Jedi, Sith, or someone belonging to none of these categories.  
> Warning in advance, the chapters of this thread are all one-shot. If I intend to write a more serious timeline, it will be in another thread.  
> And now, here we go...

Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. More the pity, I think I would have done better than Disney regarding certain movies’ plots. I don’t own A Practical Guide to Evil. It belongs to our Lord and Saviour erraticerrata.

“ _Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha. You can’t beat me now, this is the first part of my plan_!” Dread Emperor Irritant I, the Oddly Successful.

**Nineteen years before the Battle of Yavin**

**Coruscant**

**The Senate**

Jedi were always in control of their emotions, but today it was harder for Mace to maintain his patience and his mastery of them.

At long last, the Sith Lord who had humiliated the Order and caused the indirect deaths of thousands of Jedi was now known to them.

It should have been a victory. ‘Should’ was of course the key word in this instance. Instead, Mace Windu, Jedi Master and loyal servant of the Galactic Republic, had felt at first only shock at the revelation.

The Supreme Chancellor was the Sith Lord they had been searching for all these years.

Sheev Palpatine, former Senator of Naboo, a man he had met thousands of time, was the enemy of the Jedi Order all along.

By the Force, how could he have been so blind? How had they missed the currents of the Dark Side strengthening over the skies of Coruscant?

There were going to be disastrous consequences for this massive failure. Dooku had been completely truthful: the Sith had been in control of the Senate from the very beginning of this crisis, and the magnitude of the possible deeds the Sith Master had engineered while they were busy fighting the Clone Wars across the galaxy was almost giving him nausea.

Thirteen years.

This was an extremely long duration, and yet this was how long the Jedi Order had let their sworn enemy corrupt the Republic from the highest existing office.

And without the user of the Dark Side overconfidence, it may have lasted longer.

Mace frowned as the traditional avenue leading to the Chancellor’s office had been redecorated. While the luxurious carpet was still a deep red, there were banners of a great black tower struck by a brilliant lightning.

There were several holo-pictures of strange pyramids and sculptures vaguely looking like skulls and flames.

“We were blind,” Jedi Master Kit Fisto murmured, “this is truly a sinister decoration worthy of a Sith.”

Mace was forced to concede his colleague had brought excellent points.

He didn’t answer it however as they had to pass through a patrol of bodyguards, who had also changed uniforms...for the worse, in his humble opinion. The security guards of the Senate, no matter how high in the hierarchy, were usually clad in blue, but those ones were in black, and in a shade which seemed to extinguish all light.

Finally there were introduced in presence of the Supreme Chancellor in his private quarters.

The Sith was alone.

Mace felt serene.

“Master Windu, what an excellent surprise,” the treacherous politician welcomed him with a large smile which presaged nothing good, “may I understand you’re here because General Kenobi has dealt with General Grievous?”

Sheev Palpatine shook his head before speaking like he was making a great confidence to them.

“I’d always thought the reputation of this droid was very, very exaggerated.”

Mace had heard enough, and he wasn’t going to let this Sith get away with his crimes a second longer than was necessary.

“In the name of the Senate of the Galactic Republic,” Mace began while activating his lightsaber, followed by Masters Kolar, Tiin, and Fisto. “You are under arrest, Chancellor.”

Mace had expected a lot of reactions from the Sith. Anger. Loathing. Many expressions of rage and violence which would reveal to the galaxy what sort of monster had tricked them and plunged them into the Clone Wars.

Sheev Palpatine merely chuckled.

“I have a lot of respect for the Jedi Order, but...Master Windu, you need a mandate from the Senate to arrest me.” The Supreme Chancellor smiled. “And I know for certain that today, the Senate wasn’t in session. You have not forgotten you need a mandate, I hope.”

Mace descended two of the steps and pointed his lightsaber directly at the throat of the Sith. And he was a Sith, Mace could feel the Dark Side pouring out of him.

“You are under arrest, Chancellor.” He repeated, certain the Sith was not going to let them arrest them and was going to try to fight his way out any moment now.

“I resign.”

The two words struck him like the volley fire of a Star Destroyer. No, he hadn’t heard right, it was impossible.

“What?” Agen Kolar managed to articulate.

“I resign,” repeated Sheev Palpatine. “Your quarrel is obviously with the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. So I resign. If I’m not the Supreme Chancellor, surely you have no reason to arrest me, Master Windu.”

Jedi didn’t feel anger or loathing, but with every word, the four Masters present in the Supreme Chancellor’s office began to feel a sizeable amount of frustration.

“We have come to arrest you, Sheev Palpatine,” Mace didn’t lower his lightsaber. In fact, he was really hoping this venomous politician was going to give him the excuse to slay him once for all. “The Jedi Order knows you’re a Sith Lord. Whether you’re the Supreme Chancellor makes no difference.”

“But I am a simple citizen of the Galactic Republic!” the Sith smiled innocently. “What kind of Jedi war-hero arrests a simple citizen?”

“You are a Sith Lord!”

“Assuming this accusation has the shadow of a shadow of a truth,” the Dark Side’s user sighed like he was disappointed in him, “being a Sith is not illegal.”

“You’re lying!” Saesee Tiin barked. “The laws of the Ruusan Reforms-“

“They were completely obsolete and I took upon myself to modify them two years ago,” Sheev Palpatine retorted smugly.

“How by the Force could you justify something like that in front of the Senate?” Kit Fisto asked in astonished voice.

“Quite simply, Master Fisto, quite simply,” the former Chancellor boasted. “As long as the Sith is loyal to the Galactic Republic and swears to respect its laws, Senators saw no need to demonise a near-extinct species.”

“The Sith are an abominable Order which uses the Dark Side for cruel purposes!”

“The Sith are also a near-extinct species living on certain distant worlds of the Outer Rim after the Jedi tried their best to exterminate them,” Palpatine shrugged. “You should have made the distinction clearer to the Senate, Jedi Masters.”

“Enough,” Agen Kolar snarled. “Surrender!”

Sheev Palpatine raised his empty hands.

“Of course, I surrender!” the Sith Lord looked at them like they were crazy. “I am defenceless, and you have four lightsabers. What do you expect me to do, resist arrest? I just hope you’re ready for the consequences of your actions...”

“Your fate will be decided by the Senate!”

Palpatine looked at him like with the kind of expression he reserved to the children invited to visit the Senate each year.

“Master Windu, until a few minutes ago, I was the leader of the Centrist Party. A political party which according to my estimations, controls over seventy-seven percent of the votes, with ten percent independent Senators sometimes voting in favour of my policies. Are you sure you really want me to be judged by the Senate?”

“You are a private citizen now, you said it yourself,” Mace was more and frustrated by the arrogance of the Sith. One more remark...

“And even a private citizen can’t be arrested by Jedi without a mandate, no matter what certain security forces believe,” the grey-haired man told him with a charming smile. “Without a mandate, without the protection of a law, there is a word for your actions: _coup d’état_. For all your accusations today, it is evident you have not a single true proof to support your words. You are deciding that you don’t like the laws of our Great Republic, and you-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Saesee Tiin spoke. “You are a Sith Lord, and you will be stopped.”

Sheev Palpatine smiled before pushing a red button. Mace braced himself for a violent Sith attack, but Sith lightning never came.

Instantly the reinforced glass structure behind the ex-Supreme Chancellor began to light up, revealing hundreds of holographic individuals watching the Masters with expressions varying from disbelief to loathing.

“I am ready to let the Senate decide my fate,” the Sith gloated as Mace grimaced internally at the sheer number of Senatorial eyes which had seen them try to arrest the Chancellor...and none of them were from the Peace Party or noted to be friends of the Order. “Are you ready to do the same thing?”

Mace felt the Dark Side engulf everything. In hindsight, coming here had been the wrong decision. The Sith Lord had waited for them. The Sith Lord was in total control of the Senate.

And yet at the same time, Palpatine was here, defenceless, or at least as defenceless as a Sith Lord could be.

A loud echo of footsteps echoed in the corridors not far away. To make such a noise, there had to be a lot of armoured boots, Mace knew this from bitter experience.

“There are over one hundred thousand troops on their way,” declared Sheev Palpatine, looking at his nails with a concerned look. “If I were you, I would surrender, Master Windu. I am ready to agree you are a truly peerless warrior, but four against one hundred thousand seem to be quite high odds, even for you.”

“Perhaps, but you won’t be alive to see it end!”

His lightsaber rose to deliver the decisive strike. Mace was going to do it. He was going to rid the galaxy of the Sith!

The holo-screens darkened and suddenly, Mace and the three Masters screamed in agony as a torrent of ionic rays came out of the ceiling and struck them.

His lightsaber felt deactivated on the ground, out of reach.

Hundreds of troopers poured into the room, and Mace tried to use the Force, only for the strength of the pain to break his focus.

And the Sith was laughing. The Sith was laughing!

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! This truly may be the most lamentable coup ever engineered against my person!”

“We will stop you! The Order will stop you!” Agen managed to retort before collapsing.

Sheev Palpatine stopped laughing but the gloating didn’t stop.

“You can’t stop me, this is the first part of my plan!”

Mace wished to say they opposed more resistance after this, but the pressure of the Dark Side went from a suffocating aura to an ocean of hatred, and the Light side of the Force was dimming as the seconds passed.

Black-clad troopers manacled his arms and brought chains and collars, and the same was happening for the three other Masters he had led into this trap.

Because as more and more devices came out from behind sculptures and paintings, it was evident Sheev Palpatine – the true Dark Lord of the Sith – had prepared for this moment for weeks, perhaps even longer.

“I’ve given the warning to the Order,” Mace tried to bluff. “Skywalker knows who you are, he will evacuate the Temple.”

“In this case, why exactly is he on his way to the Senate?” The Dark Side’s user asked in a malicious voice before cackling at his stunned expression. “Skywalker is loyal to his friends, Master Windu. And I, in all humility, am his friend.”

“You will betray him.” Mace accused.

“Why?” Palpatine for once looked genuinely surprised. “I intend to propose it an important position in my administration! He will be chief executor and a special army commander...he will be my **Black Knight** , much like I made Ventress my **Assassin**.”

The words left him shivering. There was something incredibly wrong with them. There was something incredibly wrong with the Dark Side. It was like the entire Senate was beginning to reek of the Dark Side. The Force itself was corrupted.

“I will need a **Warlock** and a **Chancellor** , naturally to have a complete band of five,” the Sith continued to gloat, the words registering to Mace’s ears, but their true meaning escaping him. “I will also need to establish a tax on lightsabers and expel the Jedi on the temples, I have a good pyramid scheme in place to manipulate the finances, and your Temple is on the way of my new Palace.”

“You are a monster of arrogance, _Supreme Chancellor_!” Mace Windu said before a soldier gagged him and many others forced him to stand, chained and bound in front of the cackling maniac.

“Citizen! I am Citizen Palpatine for a few hours...the time for the Senate to vote me back in power. But not as Chancellor this time.”

The man most of the galaxy had sold their souls to give him a smile where power, avidity, lies and a formidable amount of arrogance struggled with each other.

“You stand in presence of **Dread Emperor Irritant** , new Master of the Galactic Empire! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Commander, lead these Jedi to the agreed chambers! Their trial has been prepared...and their execution awaits!”

By the Force, Mace was hating completely and utterly this cackling.

“Everything is proceeding exactly as I have planned! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal take on possible events if the personality of Darth Sidious was replaced by the – infamous – Dread Emperor Irritant of the A Practical Guide to Evil series.  
> As you can see, butterflies have been massive, and the Jedi are even more screwed than they are in canon...this is the guy who in his own setting managed to abdicate three times and return to power three times after, just to give him an idea about his personality.  
> Hope you have enjoyed this one-shot!


	2. A Practical Guide to Treason

Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. Several movies would have followed very different scenarios in the contrary case. I don’t own A Practical Guide to Evil. It belongs to our Lord and Saviour erraticerrata.

“ _Gentlemen, there is no need to worry: our plan is flawless. The Emperor will never see it coming_.” Grandmaster Ourobouros of the Order of Unholy Obsidian, later revealed to have been Dread Emperor Traitorous all along.

**Four years after the Battle of Yavin**

**Endor System**

**Endor’s orbit**

**Death Star II**

**Imperial quarters**

The moment Darth Vader and himself came out the elevator, Luke felt a sense of disorientation. The architecture of Imperial ships and stations, as sinister as it was on every species’ minds, had at least the merit of being predictable. The walls were grey or black, and so was the floor, the ceiling, or most of the decoration. And in the rare occasions when the Imperial architects and military engineers didn’t respect this, they were using a shade of red the very colour of blood.

As such the Imperial quarters were a shock for his eyes. To begin with, the Imperial Guards standing vigil were...yellow. It was so unexpected for the young Jedi he had to blink twice and check if he wasn’t hallucinating.

After a few seconds, Luke Skywalker realised he wasn’t. The men guarding the Emperor were truly wearing yellow helmets and yellow garbs, and the design was strangely reminiscent of clothes for the clothes a Tatooine smuggler would use than the armour delivered by the Imperial armouries.

Not that it was the sole surprise. On the left wall, a multitude of ‘wanted dead or alive’ posters had been stuck, and Luke didn’t know if he was to feel proud or fearful his own was at the very top.

Otherwise, this miniature throne room could have stood as a museum of strange and dangerous things. There were dozens of small pyramid-shaped objects burning in red light, certainly the infamous holocrons of the Sith Emperor. There were ritualistic statues of people being sacrificed on dark altars.

There was also a large tapestry of a man in black-clad robes rising on a golden throne, and according to the legend at the bottom, ‘providing peace and order to the galaxy’.

His formation of Jedi had given him an excellent control over his emotions, but Luke almost vomited at the hypocrisy of the scene, the artist having weaved this scene represented the citizens of countless species looking at the Emperor in adoration.

Unfortunately, as their progression came ever closer to the ugly throne, Luke had not the leisure to comment on the utter lack of truth the Empire sponsored.

The throne pivoted as they stopped just before the red carpet adorning the stairs.

“Ah, young Skywalker. I’ve been expecting this meeting for several years.”

Luke would be lying if he didn’t share this feeling. It was an event which had filled his dreams and nightmares for several years.

Reality was already stranger than his most wildly guesses.

Everybody knew the Emperor was an old man who had been disfigured by the ‘Jedi coup’, though in reality Master Yoda had told him it was an overreliance on the most dangerous hatred-fuelled skills of the Dark Side which were responsible for his predicament.

But the man in front of him didn’t look disfigured.

The Emperor was not exactly young, to be sure, his grey hair was evidence enough of that, but this was a man in his fifties which was looking at him with attention, not an old crone mere days away from the grave.

Luke wanted to believe this was a body double – the Emperor had become sadly infamous for their wide-spread use in the last two decades – but the Dark Side was so strong around the man that the chances of him being an impersonator were virtually null and void.

Moreover, the smile which appeared on the lips of the Emperor was not giving vibes of happiness in the Force.

“You have served me well, young Skywalker.”

“I do not serve you...your Excellency.” If the Emperor thought he had ‘served’ him before, truly the man had several big problems with his mind.

“Oh, but you did,” the Sith Master was cheerful. Too cheerful. “In a single battle, you destroyed Tarkin’s preparations to overthrow me.”

The Emperor slightly inclined his head on the side, and lowered his voice like he was delivering a great secret.

“Tarkin was planning to rally the military to him when he returned in triumph from crushing your rebellion. With the Death Star as his flagship and a large victory improving his reputation, he figured he had a chance to usurp my throne. It would have been the ultimate validation of his doctrine.” The Emperor should have looked saddened or angry, but the man who had destroyed the Jedi Order was, if anything, looking incredibly satisfied.

Luke breathed out calmly, and opened himself more deeply to the Force.

“You wanted him to betray you?”

“Of course!” The Emperor genially answered. “Have you any idea, young Skywalker, how many millions credits I have invested in making sure Tarkin’s head was swollen until he believed he was the best man to lead the Empire? First, I brainwashed his wife until she jumped willingly in my bed and became one of my official concubines. Then I threw on his path a hot-tempered red-haired bombshell at the Naval Academy...what was her name, Lord Vader? Baala? Saala?”

“I think it was Daala, my Master,” his father dutifully replied.

“Yes, Admiral Natasi Daala,” the Emperor cackled, “Gods Below, this girl is truly an ambitious snake in a sexy package. With her to whisper her poison in Tarkin’s ears, our dear Gran Moff was going to turn on me sooner or later. The next measures were somewhat less original, I will admit. I killed one of his sons and blamed the rebellion. I mounted sabotages and terrorist attacks against his homeworld. I passed him over several titles. And finally, I made him my **Chancellor**.”

Luke felt the pulse of damnation echo loudly into the Force, and he couldn’t avoid a wince.

“This is awful,” the young Jedi commented upon this near-unimaginable series of treacheries and betrayals.

“Thank you!” the Lord of the Dark Side clapped in his hands twice before his grin disappeared. “I must admit everything was not perfect before you blew him up into tiny fragments of dust. I wanted him to make an example of Chandrila, but unfortunately between my **Black Knight** ’s capture of Princess Leia and Tarkin’s distaste for House Organa, it was Alderaan which was on the receiving end of the _Death Star_.”

The Emperor did not look at all sorry for the ‘mistake’.

“Truly regrettable, but one can’t do an omelette without breaking a few eggs and executing the hens on trumped-up charges.”

Despite the warnings of Master Yoda and Obi-Wan, the cynicism of such a sentence cut Luke’s breath for a few seconds.

“Tarkin killed billions in this act of mass-murder!”

“More or less twenty billion,” his interlocutor corrected in a bored tone. “Alderaan, due to severe childbirth laws, has never been a population giant of the Core Worlds. Frankly, the economic crisis Tarkin unleashed was far more bothersome for the Empire as a whole. There were many competitive firms which had their headquarters on the Organa-ruled world, and blowing them up into orbital debris cost plenty of financial chaos in the last four years. There were over four thousand cabals formed in the sole goal to overthrow me, and over a fourth of them had Alderaanians in them!”

Luke shook his head. Was that how a man utterly corrupted by the Dark Side sounded?

“Why so saddened, young Skywalker?” The Emperor innocently asked, though it didn’t fool him. “You are after all the greatest mass-murderer of the Rebellion, no?”

“I am not like you.”

“No,” the Sith Master immediately agreed. “I certainly didn’t use a starfighter to kill two million seven hundred ninety-nine thousand and six hundred thirty-eight men, women, and droids with two proton torpedoes. I have to admit that in ratios of ammunition used compared to the number of people killed by your deeds, you have no equal in this galaxy.”

Luke stayed calm and serene. He had to not give in to the Dark Side, this was what the Emperor wanted.

“Your Empire killed billions, and you manipulated the deaths of entire worlds, beginning with the Clone Wars. You made the Republic collapse-“

“Really sorry, but my poor ears must be a bit rusty,” the Emperor interrupted it like he was straining hard not to laugh. “Young Skywalker, I certainly gave the final death blow to the Republic, but I certainly didn’t provoke its collapse in the first place. When the Senate was stupid enough to give voting rights to these cretins of Neimodians in control of the Trade Federation, I wasn’t even born!”

“And can you say the Sith before you haven’t a hand in this?”

“Yes, I can,” the black-clothed ruler cackled. “Young Skywalker, for a thousand years, the Sith Masters kept their numbers at the extremely low number of two, ignoring the benefits a Band of Five provide. The rule was obviously stupid, but we were two for an entire galaxy, as Darth Bane intended. The Galactic Republic at the very height of its prosperity had over eight million planets, and the number of its citizens was certainly in the high quadrillions. How could I, or any other Sith, collapse an entity that large with a few Masters of the Force, especially when the Jedi had hundreds of thousands of ‘Guardians of the Republic’?”

The smile of the Emperor was filled with dark amusement and malice now.

“The Republic was a rotten shell by the time I was born, young Skywalker. The Trade Federation, the Banking Clans, the various shipbuilding megacorporations...they were all busy exploiting the Outer Rim and paying the Senators billions of credits to close their eyes. Most of them didn’t care – and still don’t – about what is happening outside the Core.”

“Even assuming you are right,” and Luke didn’t bother disguising the fact he didn’t believe none of it, “the Republic could have been healed. There were good men ready to act, the damage left by centuries of Sith manipulation and tyrants’ exploitation could have been healed!”

The Emperor burst into laughter, and to Luke’s consternation, his father imitated him on his left, the black helmet producing sounds which were both strange and mocking.

“Young Skywalker...who are these ‘good men’?” The Emperor asked. “The Jedi? Their vaunted position of ‘above the laws’ made sure that even as the Senate was dancing to my tune, they never left their ivory towers inside their Temple to wonder what was truly happening a few kilometres away from their residence. Or maybe you refer as to these paragons of democracy and virtue named Mon Mothma and Bail Organa?”

“They are champions of democracy, unlike you.”

“I was elected Senator of Naboo, did you know?” The Emperor grinned. “Granted it required me to blackmail the King, five secret cabals and thirty assassinations, and I probably rigged a few ballots to have an exact sixty-six percent of the electoral vote, but I was elected. Bail Organa wasn’t. For all its haughty ‘principles’, and ‘love of democracy’, Alderaan was always dominated by the ten Great Noble Houses. For more than ten thousand years, they have dominated the executive, legislative, and judicial systems of their planet. If your sister had not been adopted by the ruling masters of Alderaan, her chances to become a Senator would have been literally inexistent.”

The argument made Luke freeze. The Emperor knew about Leia. How? How was it possible?

“Master?” Apparently, the Jedi wasn’t the only one to be caught cold by this revelation. “Master, what is this about I having a daughter?”

“Leia was adopted by House Organa after your...tragic accident in the lava fields of Mustafar and Senator Padme Amidala died giving birth to her and young Luke,” the Emperor spoke slowly like he was addressing a small child. “Consequently, yes, she is the twin sister of young Skywalker.”

“YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” The explosion of the Dark Side was monstrous. Holocrons flew everywhere. Statues were shredded. For a few seconds, chaos reigned in this section of the _Death Star II_.

The Emperor didn’t even twitch at the wrath of Darth Vader.

“Honestly, my **Black Knight** , I was almost certain you would recognise her as your daughter,” the master of the Death Star cackled. “The girl is the perfect copy of Amidala when she was her age, except she replaced the ridiculous Nabooian hairstyle by the even more disturbing Alderaanian buns.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

The Emperor raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed theatrically.

“Next he’s going to tell me he didn’t even bother bribing a few people to see if his wife was still pregnant when they buried her.”

“YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME!”

“I suppose the next illogical step will be to affirm you didn’t even check if there were another Skywalker scions hiding on Tatooine for two entire decades.”

“ **Destroy**.” Terrible tendrils of darkness were summoned by the power of the Dark Side, and at this very moment, Luke understood how much his genitor had been toying with him during their last duel.

The very reality was engulfed in darkness. Objects were pulverised. And Darth Vader charged the Emperor, his red lightsaber flashing like blood in the middle of the night.

“It is treason, then.” Eldritch sparkles pulsated around the hands of the Emperor and slammed into Vader. Then suddenly the holocrons left intact burned in an even more powerful red light, and struck him from behind with things looking like whip-lightsabers.

“I’m not saying I saw your betrayal coming a thousand light-years away,” the Emperor smiled, “but I’m implying it very strongly. **Punish**.”

One of the most feared men in the galaxy screamed in agony, before a hand wave sent him shattering most of the room’s decoration and slamming against the elevator.

Darth Vader fell on a mountain of debris and didn’t try to stand once more, unconscious from this single powerful overwhelming attack.

The whole scene had not lasted ten seconds.

“I suppose it’s time for me to find another **Black Knight** ,” the Sith Lord seemed genuinely sorry, though after what had happened, Luke wasn’t going to trust the expression or the words. “Do you want the **Name** , young Skywalker?”

“I will not serve you.”

“Yes, yes, the Jedi I managed to capture before the coup were all saying that,” the fifty-years-old man sarcastically declared. “Most of the young whose indoctrination could be broken rapidly changed their opinions.”

“Because you corrupted them.”

“Yes...however personally I call it having fun. Being a Sith allows you to gather riches, power, beautiful concubines, priceless tomes of sorcery, the power to strike down any idiot who annoys you, and of course my favourite: engineering secret cabals to overthrow myself.”

Several red lights were lighted near the Emperor’s seat, and in the distance, a few alarms shrieked.

“Ah, your friends have come, young Skywalker. Right on time,” The manacles which had tied his hands ceded.

“The fleet of the Alliance is going to destroy this battle-station like I destroyed the old one.”

“I find this...unlikely, young Jedi.” Suddenly and without warning, the eyes of the man began to burn in evil yellow fire. “ **Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen**.”

Somehow, Luke knew the man was taunting the Force, the galaxy, and everything living in a radius of thousands of light-years.

“I sold the false-plans of the Death Star II myself to the Bothans, before taxing them several millions of credits and ordering plenty of executions to ensure they ‘guaranteed’ the authenticity of the data.” What followed could only be called a long session of gloating. “All your friends on the moon of Endor are going to attack the wrong bunker, the one which is filled with deadly neurotoxins and a powerful laser warhead. The real shield command centre is five hundred kilometres away from it, guarded by the ursine pests I have bribed with honey and sugar into playing ‘allies’ to your side. One hundred Star Destroyers led by several of my most ambitious Admirals are waiting to be summoned into this system, and I have already purged the Vader loyalists from their ranks. They were informed beforehand the one who will destroy the greatest number of rebel starships will become my new Grand Admiral.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just gloating for the sake of it. Mere seconds later, it became obvious that the _Death Star II_ was still protected by an impenetrable shield that nothing in the Alliance arsenal was able to pierce.

And the massive fleets which came out of hyperspace had dozens of brand-new Star Destroyers leading the charge, surrounded by a swarm of TIE starfighters and hundreds of Light Cruisers. Behind them, uncountable Interdictors prevented any hasty retreat.

“We have survived worse,” this was a lie, and Luke knew the Emperor had noticed. Individually, many pilots and fighters of the Rebellion had met unfavourable odds and disastrous beginnings. But this time, the Empire had assembled a truly crushing numerical superiority. “And if you die today, your Empire’s structure will collapse and a new Republic will be established, one which will truly bring stability and peace to this galaxy.”

“I have my doubts,” the Emperor used the Force to summon one holocron to his hand. “You see, young Jedi, I have put in scene the deaths of a colossal number of body doubles over the last years. The moment I am killed, I will blame my death on a million people, and all the secret cabals I am secretly the Grand Master of will launch deadly attacks against all the worlds supporting the Rebellion.”

“You are...you are...a monster.”

The grey-haired man shrugged before slowly standing on his feet and placing back the black hood of his robes over his head.

“I am **Dread Emperor Traitorous** , Jedi,” the creature of darkness boasted, “and I have yet to find a situation that couldn’t be improved by a copious amount of lies and body doubles!”

“These were your last treasons,” behind them, Darth Vader – his father – activated against his red lightsaber.

“My betrayals will never end,” Traitorous cackled, “did you know I paid Han Solo to shoot your TIE Fighter during the destruction of the first Death Star?”

Luke knew it was a lie. It had to be a lie, right?

“Anyway you two aren’t suitable to be **Black Knights**. I have decided to make Leia Skywalker my new **Chancellor** , at least I know that when she will try to betray me, the judicial and political battle will be truly epic; she won’t begin her treachery by behaving like the lowest brute of the under-levels of Coruscant!”

“Your reign arrives at its end, your Excellency,” Luke activated his own lightsaber, and green light danced to fight for the Force. The monster was lying and lying, but he had not succeeded turning him to the Dark Side, he would not cripple him with doubts and suspicion.

Then the Emperor pressed a touch on the holocron, and the black armour of his father was powered down, and for the second time of the day, Darth Vader fell against the floor.

“My dear Vader,” the Emperor cackled, “I am truly horrified you never tried to analyse the software of the armour you were gifted after your little attempt at swimming in the Mustafar lava went wrong. You didn’t think I had left a few electronic traps for contingencies, did you?”

Then the yellow eyes turned towards him, and in them Luke saw only vicious amusement and eternal manipulation.

“I am **Traitorous**! I betrayed the **Betrayer**! I have cloned myself a million times, and ten million cabals are acting for and against my orders at any second! I have doomed angels, destroyed planets, and corrupted prophecies! I am the master of a million worlds by the power of the Dark Side and treason! I convinced the Senators of the Republic to proclaim me Emperor! I destroyed the Jedi Order, and by my will your pathetic band of rebels was allowed to become a credible threat! I reframe the truth as I please! I am your enemy and your friend!”

“I am a Jedi,” Luke parried in extremis the vivid Sith lightning the Emperor sent his way, “and your evil ends today!”

Traitorous cackled in evil laughter.

“ **That’s the spirit, hero**!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few Dread Emperors who try to advance their pawns in subtle manoeuvres and invisible plots. Dread Emperor Traitorous absolutely doesn’t rely on this, as his name implies. For him, it’s more the ‘refuge in audacity’ trope which is involved...  
> It has to be said that in a potential future, the galaxy is going to spend centuries solving all the damage from his betrayals...everybody will remember Traitorous for a very, very long time.


	3. A Practical Guide to Atrocity

Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. Several movies would have followed very different scenarios in the contrary case. I don’t own A Practical Guide to Evil. It belongs to our Lord and Saviour erraticerrata.

“ _Maybe I won’t go to Heaven but you’ve never owned a pit full of man-eating tapirs so who’s the real loser here_?” Dread Empress Atrocious, best known for comprehensive tax reform and having been eaten by man-eating tapirs. They were later executed by her successor for treason after a lengthy trial.

**Four years after the Battle of Yavin**

**Tatooine**

**Northern Dune Sea**

**New Ater Palace**

Leia Organa was sick of being arrested. Yes, she was a Princess-in-exile, but was it necessary to follow the old tales of the Alderaanian Princesses who fell every time in the clutches or the claws of their dastardly enemies?

Tatooine had been supposed to be different...except most of the knowledge given to her by Luke and the other agents of the Rebellion on Tatooine was useless.

Evidently, in the last four years, there had been massive changes on this sandy planet.

The one most important for her rescue mission was the fact Jabba’s Palace had been entirely razed, and the gigantic slug creature owning it had not been seen in several months.

Evidently, Jabba the Hutt was not in control of Tatooine or his crime empire anymore. And the new master who had taken over had clearly more megalomaniac taste where Tatooine was concerned.

They were on Tatooine, a planet most known for its hot climate, its lethal fauna, and its murderous indigene population, but Jabba’s successor had ordered the construction of a gigantic tower in the middle of the desert, surrounded by anti-storm walls and massive military installations. Leia knew the Imperial Palace of Palpatine was still bigger than this architectural monstrosity, but everything was tall and big on Coruscant – the Empire had not introduced this trend – and the simple transport of materials must have cost a fortune.

For the moment though, she was more concentrated on a possible escape from her captors. Alas, whoever was in charge had hired Mandalorian warriors of all people, and judging by the quality of the equipment they were armed with and the facility they had disarmed her, these weren’t amateurs.

Leia searched for a sign, any sign of lack of focus, idle chatter on the holo-communications, or overconfidence. But the Mandalorian faces and mood were all hidden by their beskar armours, and the Alderaanian Princess didn’t even know if some of her ‘escort’ was male or female.

The ascent was quick towards the upper levels of the ‘Ater Tower’. It was also extremely sinister. The pillars were sculpted to represent extremely ugly monsters. Everything which was represented had fangs, thorns, claws, vicious talons, and belligerent postures.

The Throne Room continued this trend. The Coruscant court would have almost approved, given all the red, the black and the visible Imperial pomp, though the myriad of skulls and decapitated heads would have managed to provoke a few heart attacks along the way.

And then as half of the walk to the ugly black throne in the distance had been done, a musical cacophony began to resonate. Shadows engulfed the lower end of the hall. When they ceased, a young woman in a long black robe was seated upon the throne.

“Her Most Dreadful Majesty, the Cruel, the Tyrannical, the Splendour of Evil, Mistress of Tatooine, Lady Regent of the Arkanis Sector, Dread Empress Atrocious!” the herald near the black gates proclaimed.

Leia was forced to kneel by the two Mandalorians next to her, as the ruckus continued and a vulgar ceremony played out.

As soon as the musical tumult ceased, the ‘Empress’ spoke, her green eyes flashing impressive in eerie lights.

“So the heroine has come to free her true love,” the black-robed woman began. “May I suggest not trying to escape my Legions of Terror next time if you don’t want to attract attention?”

“I will think about it,” Leia spoke noncommittally, “and the person I have come to free is not my love.” It was better to never give too much ammunition to tyrants and dictators, and what was between Solo and she was a private matter.

“Do you mean the droids are you true love, Princess?” A loud crack sounded, and a cage descended from the ceiling, containing the familiar shapes of C-3PO and R2D2. “Okay, I’m not the one to judge, but-“

The red hairs of the woman were unfamiliar, but the green eyes and the voice...she had already seen and heard them before.

Trying not to think about the ridiculous assertion between a human and a droid, Leia fixed her interlocutor.

“We met each other before. You were at one of the soirées organised by the Emperor.”

“Of course!” the red-haired woman immediately confirmed her suspicions. “Before conquering Tatooine and its Sector, I was known in certain circles as Mara Jade, the Emperor’s Hand. But it was paying very badly and the Emperor was going to get rid of me sooner or later, so I decided to retire from his service. And Jabba the Hutt was so kind to let me have his princely kingdom before going to fight his Rancor in the arena!”

The daughter of Bail Organa raised a non-impressed eyebrow. The Hutt were crime lords, supreme backstabbers, patrons of smugglers, and drug dealers among many other things. But they were definitely not frontline warriors, arena fighters, or willing to sully their hands themselves.

“And what was Jabba the Hutt doing fighting a Rancor in the first place?”

“He fell in the pit where he was keeping his pet,” the green-eyed ‘Empress of Tatooine’ smiled, and Leia tried not to shudder, because it was evident the woman was completely crazy. “A most tragic accident, really.”

“Yes, very tragic,” it was never a good idea to be too sarcastic in presence of a psychopath, but even she had her limits.

“Absolutely tragic, the Rancor poisoned itself trying to eat Jabba,” the madwoman continued and outbid her previous delirium. “I abandoned the idea of keeping an underground basement of these misunderstood creatures after this incident. I can’t have pets of so delicate constitution, no matter how noble their hunting allure.”

Yes, the woman was completely crazy. Rancors, especially mature and adult Rancors, were predators best kept far away from any human habitation. Having one of them like Jabba could end up in disaster; having ‘a pit full of them’ was a tragedy waiting to happen.

“All of this is very interesting...” it wasn’t, but this was not the first time the ex-Senator of Alderaan would have to lie to a megalomaniac, “I am here to obtain the liberation of Captain Han Solo.”

The answer came without delay, it was short and decisive.

“No.”

“Your Most Dreadful Majesty...”

“No!” The ‘Empress’ snarled. “When he was unfrozen from his carbonite prison, this ingrate refused to pay his taxes! The insolent! The forsworn! He then had the gall to refuse to kiss my shoes as apologies for his deplorable conduct! Who does he think he is? Upstart smuggler! Sand Demon’s shit! Treacherous blaster-fodder!”

Leia had a sudden urge to close her eyes and facepalm. She repressed it; it would hardly be princely or professional. But yes, that sounded like Han Solo all right, provocative to the last degree.

“I’m sure we can find an arrangement...”

“An arrangement?” The red-haired woman exploded in fury. “Who do you think I am? Have you not seen the impaled heads of Jabba’s lieutenants on the second floor?”

A Mandalorian warrior standing at attention behind her coughed.

“Actually, your Most Dreadful Majesty, we bypassed this one, we were in a hurry.”

“Note to self,” grumbled the woman who had apparently been called ‘Mara Jade’, “hire new touristic operators, Mandalorians are useless showing off the best parts of the Tower.”

“With due respect, your Most Dreadful Majesty, the last museum curator we invited did not make it to the third floor before taking his own life,” a blue-armoured Mandalorian insisted.

“BWHAHAHAHA!” The Empress of Tatooine laughed cruelly. “Yes, I have holo-recordings of his mental collapse before he threw himself by the nearest window.”

Leia wasn’t finding this funny at all, and judging by the absence of laughter of the guards, neither did they.

“But I suppose that’s to be expected,” the red-haired dictator-tyrant continued mercilessly, “for all their prattle about High Human Culture and such nonsense, the Imperials and all these ‘civilised’ envoys from the Core are the first to cry when you pour a little poison in their drinks.”

Leia readjusted her estimations of the woman’s insanity for the worse. Cruel, psychopathic, sociopathic, prone to executing anyone who didn’t meet her standards...assuredly Palpatine had chosen subordinates sharing his lack of ethics, to say nothing of their mental deficiencies.

“And if I said I was willing to pay a ransom for the liberation of Captain Solo?”

“I would answer the legitimate government of Tatooine, loyal to its founding motto ‘too much is never enough’, is perfectly willing to entertain a large financial settlement,” a flame of greed now burned in the green eyes. “But I warn you in advance, I don’t want to be paid in Mon Calamari Flans or another of the useless currencies your Rebellion is spreading around the galaxy. I want to be paid in Aurodium ingots or Nova Crystals. None of these counterfeit credits and devalued money. And I want two Class II ingots to release this insubordinate and unreliable smuggler who also happens to be your lover.”

“This is highway robbery,” Leia retorted on the spot. Two Class II ingots of Aurodium were currently negotiated around five hundred million Imperial credits on the galactic markets. “Solo’s debt to Jabba the Hutt was not that large.”

“Initially no,” recognised the slug’s successor. “But Solo failed to pay for more than four years, and naturally his debt has accrued a lot of interest in the meanwhile. Plus there’s the bounty I paid to dear Boba Fett for his capture. There’s also the little matter of all the parking fines the _Millennium Falcon_ has been guilty of in his ‘adventures’.”

The Dread Empress smiled, and by her lost homeworld, this was truly an ugly expression.

“But if you don’t want to pay, that’s fine. Since the smuggler is unable to work properly in Jabba’s service or mine, the least I can do is make a spectacle of his new exploits. In three days, my new arena will open, and on that date I will inaugurate my brand-new pit and its adorable Krayt Dragons.”

“You are...”

“I am Atrocious, I know.” The madwoman giggled. “Of course, should the great Hero of the Rebellion Luke Skywalker be present in my Imperial lodge, naked, oiled, and at my service for several hours, maybe I would consider making null and void the death sentence of Captain Solo. I’ve always had a weakness for blonde heads with muscles and an innocent air.” The expression of disgust on her face must have been extremely obvious, because the ruler of Tatooine looked at her with a pleased smirk. “Don’t look at me like that, Princess. If Jabba was still in command, I can guarantee you would have been in a slavery bikini faster than you can say ‘Empire’.”

“That does not make your methods better!”

“I am better,” the red-haired woman countered frostily. “I have tripled the initial funds which existed when I took over Tatooine, and by all records, my tax reforms have been a massive success, with only one hundred thousand dead across the Arkanis Regency and a significant improvement of lifestyle and systemic budget. All the previous administrations failed to achieve that!”

“I suppose that you’re awaiting congratulations from the Coruscant Emperor and the Alliance to Restore the Republic?”

“No,” the greed, the cruelty, the loathing and many other flaws were coalescing in the green irises. “I do not desire insincere flattery from people I intend to bring to my feet. I am **Atrocious** , and the galaxy will soon be **mine**. **All will bow to me and despair**!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dread Empress Atrocious’ mind was sent to replace the one of Mara Jade. It has been an improvement...of sorts, for Tatooine. In the long-term, of course, it’s likely to spread more disastrous events for the galaxy at large...


	4. A Practical Guide to Malevolence

Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. Several movies would have followed very different scenarios in the contrary case. I don’t own A Practical Guide to Evil. It belongs to our Lord and Saviour erraticerrata.

“ _The most important part of any summary execution is to remember to have fun and be yourself_.” Dread Empress Malevolent II.

**Twenty-two years before the Battle of Yavin**

**Outer Rim Territories**

**Separatist Space**

**Geonosis**

**Petranaki Arena**

Count Christopher Dooku, leader of the Separatist political movement, former Jedi, Sith Apprentice under the name of Darth Tyrannus, was somewhat a connoisseur in wild beasts and ferocious predators. This was why he had insisted Poggle the Lesser unleashed an Acklay, a Nexu, and a Reek on the two Jedi and Senator Amidala.

It was certainly not going to be enough to kill the three Republican representatives, but the sheer viciousness and murderous behaviour of these beasts would guarantee an impressive spectacle for the audience of one hundred thousand Geonosians.

This was why the surprise was absolutely total when the former Queen of Naboo’s chains fell broken to the ground and in a jump which should have been impossible to anyone not trained in the use of the Force, proceeded to land on the Nexu and use it as an improvised ride. The second surprise was that it didn’t cost her life. Logically, the Nexu should have immediately rebelled against the human mounting it.

But the Nexu seemed perfectly content to obey the orders of his new ‘owner’, and proceeded to charge the ozay-mounted Geonosians deployed on the arena’s floor. The intrepid Geonosians, if he remembered correctly Poggle had called them the _Picadors_ , were the elite of the Geonosis gladiators, though given the monumental cowardice of the species, it wasn’t as much a big endorsement as it should have been.

Today they realised that to stop a well-led Nexu, they really needed more than stun poles and other shock batons.

“What is she doing?” the enraged squeak of Nute Gunray, the idiotic Viceroy of the Trade Federation, resonated in the air as the Nexu begun to savour once more Geonosian flesh. “She isn’t authorised to do this! Jango! Kill her!”

The Sith Apprentice smiled and shook negatively his head, silently ordering the Mandalorian mercenary to do nothing of the sort.

“Patience, Viceroy. She will die.” Inwardly, Dooku was beginning to wonder what his Master had hidden from him, as the Senator of Naboo had an expression of utter glee on her face, and by this point it was obvious she wasn’t trying to escape. No, Amidala was proceeding to hunt the Geonosians trapped with her in the arena and deliver them as lunch for the Nexu.

While she wasn’t using the Force like a Jedi or even a Sith would, the Senator was obviously using...something to make herself more powerful. Her presence was a burning flame...a black flame that even a Sith of his skills was wise enough to recognise as a potential danger.

Nute Gunray, for once in his pathetic existence, might not be wrong. The benefits of letting Padme Amidala live longer were now seriously beginning to be outweighed by the drawbacks.

And as if nothing further could go wrong, Anakin Skywalker mind-controlled the Reek masterfully and sent it slamming into the Acklay, beginning a fight to the death between to the death between the two super-predators.

Dooku sighed, before making the silent signal to one of his subordinates to unleash the droidekas. Not all of them, he wanted the reinforcements of the Republic to arrive in time and give a legitimate casus belli to the newly-united Confederation of Independent Systems and-

The Count of Serenno frowned as Amidala descended from the Nexu – and marvels of marvels, the beast prostrated itself before her. As the Jedi Padawan ran towards her, the not-so-pacifist Senator seized him and kissed him deeply, obviously not caring at all she had an audience of one hundred thousand Geonosians.

The expression on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s face was so priceless Dooku couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ah, young love,” Jango Fett said, one of his hands running in the hair of his ‘son’.

“Are they going to make love to each other?” Dooku outright burst into laughter, his dignified holo-image be damned, as he was reminded Mandalorian adults were teaching their children the basics of sexual relationships at a very young age.

“Maybe,” the adult version of the Mandalorian duo replied, “but not in the arena, I hope.”

If amusement reigned on part of the balcony, the Neimodian corner was incandescent with fury.

“Dead!” Nute Gunray was shrieking. “I want her dead!”

The voice of this imbecile was seriously annoying his ears. No Neimodian was indispensable to the Grand Plan, but Dooku swore to himself he was really going to ask Sidious if Gunray’s involvement could be put to an end after this battle.

The Sith Lords needed a viable puppet to control the Trade Federation for a few more years before nationalising it and eliminating this disgusting species. But any average Neimodian would do the job, and Nute Gunray had proven that his skills were well below the average aside when it came to shift the blame on his subordinates.

The droidekas began to roll into the arena. They were over a dozen of them, a sufficient force to neutralise one Nexu, one Senator and two Jedi.

At least they would be able to delay the affair until more Jedi and Republican forces arrived.

This part of the Grand Plan was suddenly thrown out through the closest window when he saw the female Senator rising her fist in the air and scream.

“ **INVISIBLE ARMY! ATTACK**!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Nute Gunray gloated. “This female is completely mad! There is no army but ours on Geonosis! Besides, Naboo has no army! The Republic has no army! Who does she expect to come to her rescue?”

In the days after this unplanned disaster, Christopher Dooku would certify to the rare people he could confide in the matter that yes, Gunray had taunted the Force far too much to have a chance of survival.

It was still a problematic surprise to see his throat be impaled upon a spear.

“NOBODY EXPECTS THE INVISIBLE GUNGAN ARMY!” shouted the non-human creature which had just materialised behind the dignitaries. “OUR CHIEF WEAPONS ARE-“

Dooku was so surprised by this appearance he blasted immediately from the balcony the Gungan, sending it to its death dozens of metres below. Frustratingly, the Nabooian non-human executed a series of coordinated acrobatics which slowed down its fall and let him land unscathed below.

Dooku decided to ignore this issue for now. There were far worse problems now; to begin with, the thousands of spear and blaster-armed Gungans who had all taken position in the stands and were now falling upon the Geonosians.

The CIS supreme commander was not exaggerating when he said it was a massacre.

The Geonosians had come to watch an execution. They were defenceless, unless you counted the snack food in their claws as a weapon, and absolutely devoid of any military training. Now the Gungans fell upon them and explained to them in the most painful manner imaginable how monumental a mistake it was.

The old Dooku would have mourned the death of so many lives.

The new Darth Tyranus savoured the fear and the suffering of the Geonosians which engulfed the so-called ‘Arena of Justice’.

The atmosphere’s joy and delight had disappeared. Now the Dark Side reigned supreme.

“This is impossible!” babbled the second Neimodian, clearly alternating between outrage and disbelief. “They...they can’t be there! Do something! ARRGH!”

One discreet gesture and the subordinate of the Viceroy fell dead, throat crushed and lungs lacerated by the Force.

“Execute Case Zero.” The Count ordered in a calm but determined voice. “Send half a million battle-droids here immediately. Optimise them for anti-soldier protocols.”

The plan, despite some setbacks, was still on its way. This was not the Republican army he had been told to expect, but due to the treaties signed a decade ago, the Gungans were citizens of the Galactic Republic. Therefore, the unauthorised landing of thousands of Gungans was quite obviously an act of war against Geonosis and the Separatists.

This wasn’t going to say there wasn’t going to be a disastrous fallout from this event. The Geonosians – those still alive at least – were opening their wings and flying like they had seen whipped by Sith lightning for several seconds, and the rest were utterly routed by the Gungans.

It was...deplorable and pathetic. It was going to be extremely difficult to convince certain species big on martial honour to join the Confederation after this. Fleeing from Jedi could be accepted; being decimated by an enthusiastic militia force was something else entirely.

“Count, we have a problem,” Jango Fett’s intervention was feeling him with dread.

“Oh?”

The Mandalorian finger pointed in direction of the reddish sky of Geonosis, and Dooku winced internally as the familiar shape of a converted Federation Battleship losing altitude and about to break in half.

The Force chose this moment to scream. There was no preliminary warning; in a single second, it was like his entire surroundings were filled with shrieks of agony and torture, and while suffering and fear should have strengthened him, this time there was no assurance, no hatred to draw into himself.

There was darkness, and then a void engulfed everything.

Dooku shivered and it came worse as he saw thousands of Geonosians begin to crash on the stones of the arena. Most of the Geonosians who had tried to flee were falling, lifeless, their bodies shells devoid of any sign of life.

Darth Tyranus watched the young woman grinning in the middle of the arena, and for the first time in a while, was truly worried about something which did not include the future or Darth Sidious.

Padme Amidala was standing here like a Queen, her white clothes creating a quite beautiful lie compared to the monstrous aura of obscurity she was shrouding herself in. Worse, the Jedi were affected too, as they guarded her with looks one usually reserved to figures of worship.

“ **I am Malevolent**.”

This was not a subtle message, but then given the amount of violence produced today, subtlety was not among the weapons worth anything on Geonosis.

“Send more droids. Priority target is the Senator of Naboo.”

And that was when a violet lightsaber activated to threaten Jango Fett.

“Master Windu,” Dooku saluted his colleague. “I’m afraid you are a bit late, the party has already begun without the Order.”

“So I see, Count,” a faint smile appeared on the stern lips of the Jedi Master. “So I see. My advice is to surrender. Enough blood has been shed today.”

Some part of Dooku was tempted to do exactly that and let whatever demon possessing Amidala body endure the full might of the political shenanigans a Dark Side ritual of this magnitude deserved.

But the galaxy was bigger than the pleasure of an old man.

And the loud tumult of the gigantic droid army marching to counter-invade Gungans and the other Republican invaders was arriving to his ears.

There was over two hundred Jedi taking position in the Geonosian arena.

The day was going to end in a Confederate defeat, but he could still return to something approaching the original plan.

“A valiant rally, my old friend,” Darth Tyranus bowed respectfully. “But it was a mistake to come here.”

“ **Destroy**.”

The balcony where he and several dignitaries were standing suddenly found itself without supporting pillar and the Count suddenly realised he too was going part of the spectacle today.

“I should have retired a decade ago and lived the decadent life the other Counts of Serenno promised me,” the former Jedi sighed in regret.

Seconds later, Darth Tyranus was fighting for his life. He didn’t dare asking himself what else could go wrong today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the fourth and last chapter of my weekly détente. There may be more chapters updated this month, but for the moment The Weaver Option is going to take priority.


	5. A Practical Guide to Imperialism

Disclaimer: I alas do not own Star Wars or A Practical Guide to Evil. I am convinced I would have done a better job on the former, and I am absolutely sure I would have failed to do justice to the idea of the latter.

“ _I imagine the High Lords would be inclined to protest the mind control, if I hadn’t seized controlled of their minds, which just goes to show it was the right decision all along_ ,” Dread Emperor Imperious, shortly before being torn apart by an Ater mob.

**Thirty-two years before the Battle of Yavin**

**Coruscant**

**The Senate**

Had it not been absolutely vital to keep his mask of honest politician upon his face, Darth Sidious would have had a good laugh at the atmosphere of chaos reigning in the Senate.

Alas, if he began to giggle or show any sign of joy, his fellow Senators, not to mention these never-cursed-enough Jedi or the young Queen sitting behind him, were going to think he was insane. His ‘beloved homeworld’ had been blockaded and invaded by the Trade Federation. Presenting an image of frivolity and happiness wouldn’t do anything good for the purposes of the Great Plan.

Somehow, the Sith Lord hiding under the identity of Sheev Palpatine didn’t think his ‘Master’ Plagueis would be very amused to learn he had compromised himself where a millennium of preparations were entering into their final stage.

It was a pain to maintain this mask of affability and patient mentorship at every hour of day. Just for that, Sidious felt the urge to reach out to the Force and crush the throats of a few Senators. There were so many of them, surely the Galactic Republic wouldn’t mourn the loss of one or two?

“The Chancellorship gives speaking rights to the representative of the sovereign world of Naboo.”

Abandoning for the moment his dreams of murder, Sheev Palpatine placed his hand upon his holo-console and his repulsorpod moved to position itself in front of the seat of the Supreme Chancellor.

“Your Supreme Excellency, my fellow Senators,” his voice was calm, steady, with a hint of worry but far stronger resolution. “A tragedy is taking place. It is a tragedy which has begun in this very Convocation Chamber when taxation of trade hyperlanes was debated. And it is a tragedy which now submerges our planet, invaded and oppressed by the droid armies of the Trade Federation.”

Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum stared at Palpatine with the expression the man reserved to the very bad days. As well he should, for this was a crisis that his office had never had the power to solve when he was elected, and the Coruscanti politician had only shreds of it now available to it.

Sidious knew the Jedi complained about seeing one of their staunchest allies being thrown into the pools of excrements. Yet in typical fashion, they had done nothing, choosing to remain in their ivory towers of the Temple while he tore apart the very foundations of the Republic.

If there weren’t Jedi, the Sith Lord would thank for them for their stupidity.

But it was fitting in a way. A Supreme Chancellor called Valorum had used all his power and influence to make sure the Ruusan Reforms which made what the Galactic Republic was today were voted and implemented across millions of worlds. The Order of Bane – and himself in particular – had little to no problem guaranteeing the last Supreme Chancellor before Sith rule was a Valorum.

Debts had to be paid and all of that, and if it was possible, Sidious would love imprison Finis Valorum into a carbonite prison and let him out once complete victory was his.

The idiot had been naive enough to believe the Jedi were the answer to everything in the galaxy; let him contemplate the multitude of disasters this confidence had engineered.

“This is preposterous slander!” And here arrived the brainless and sycophantic Neimodians of the Trade Federation. Palpatine had to admit he was pleasantly surprised; it had not been five seconds he had made a pause in his speech. “I protest vigorously against the allegations of the Senator of Naboo!”

It was all against the rules, of course. The Senator had not asked the permission to speak, never mind received it; something which was violating at least a few dozen rules in the Republic Constitution and could be punished by heavy fines at the discretion of the Supreme Chancellor.

Of course, with Chancellor Valorum in charge...

“The Chancellorship has not given the Senator of the Trade Federation speaking rights,” Sheev almost raised an eyebrow as the voice of the Coruscanti had taken a louder, darker edge. “Since it is the sixth time this week your conduct is unbecoming of a Senator of this noble Chamber, you will be fined ten million Credits.”

Well, this was a surprise. Maybe this doddering old fool had grown half a spine or realised a tiny part of the political catastrophe which was waiting for him.

In the meanwhile, the Neimodian proved once more they were unable to shut up even when they were in the wrong and the drawbacks outweighed the advantages.

“I protest! This fine is completely unjust!”

“Accusation against the Chancellorship when the evidence is overwhelmingly against you?” Finis Valorum shrugged. “I stand corrected. Let’s raise your fine to twenty million Galactic Credits, then.”

“This is outrageous!”

“Forty million.”

“We will seize the Judicial Courts!”

“The same which are examining your blatantly illegal acts in the Outer Rim?” The last of the Valorum replied tartly. “Eighty million.”

Sidious had to admit, he was incredibly amused. This was absolutely not the plan he had envisioned this Senatorial session would go, but at least it was entertaining. It seemed the taxation of the Trade Federation was going to be enforced, if in a very different manner everyone including him had thought of.

“Your administration will not survive!”

There was quite a ruckus at the last sentence across the different delegations of Senators.

Unfortunately for the Trade Federation, it utterly failed in its aims to cower Valorum.

“The threat has been noted and added to the list of outrages to the Chancellorship the Trade Federation has grown so used to in these very halls.” One of the Supreme Chancellor’s assistants transferred some holo-data on the main panel and the reaction was not long in coming. “The total fine the Trade Federation will have to transfer to the Treasury Department is of two hundred million Credits. **Now thank me for the valuable lesson you have been imparted**.”

Sheev Palpatine shivered. There had been power behind those words. How? Finis Valorum wasn’t a Jedi. In fact, there were billions of people on Coruscant who were more sensitive to the Force than this nullity, not something really difficult as the Coruscanti Chancellor was barely a finger or two more sensitive than the blank Jango Fett.

“Thank you...for the valuable lesson...Supreme Chancellor.” The Neimodian clutched his throat like the words had been uttered against his will. And given the evidence Sidious had, they certainly were. By all the torture chambers of Korriban, what madness had taken hold of this chamber?

“Good, good.” The nominal head of the Galactic Republic made a slight move of his hand and the group of bureaucrats which had been on the brink of ‘advising’ him stopped. “Now let’s return to the problem of the millions of battle-droids you have invaded Naboo with.”

“There is no invasion and our blockade is perfectly legal!”

“ **Stop wasting my time Senator. I want the truth and nothing but the truth**.”

This was not part of the plan, and with growing dismay, Sidious realised he had not any contingencies ready for Valorum suddenly manifesting Force abilities.

Fortunately for the Order of Bane and the Rule of Two, this Neimodian was not aware of his existence, and was not the most intelligent being of the Senate in the first place.

“It is Viceroy Gunray’s fault! He has invaded Naboo with six of our Lucrehulks-modified freighters and three million battle-droids!”

The next couple of minutes were a deplorable display of cowardice, half-apologies, mumblings, and countless attempts to make his superior the chief mastermind behind the entire crisis.

When the stupid creature finally stopped babbling, Sheev Palpatine knew there was going to be a lot of clean up the moment he could get out of view and give orders to his agent. Except the Sith Lords, everybody was expendable; the only question was ‘how much’. And with these little revelations, Gunray and all the Neimodians were very, very expendable. Any doubt on the subject was removed by the shouts of anger and the accusations coming from plenty of Senators, including some which were in service.

Under most circumstances, the Senators would have deliberately ignored any salacious ‘revelations’, but with no one sensing the power used by Valorum, the Neimodian’s words were taken as the confession of someone breaking under the pressure.

“The Chancellorship recognises the Senator of the Techno Union.”

Sidious internally winced. He knew the solidarity of the megacorporations was real, but could said Senator have waited a bit, like a day or two, before plunging into the arena?

“These divagations from the Honourable Senator of the Trade Federation are pure imagination!”

“Excuse me Senator,” Valorum appeared more and more amused by the situation unfolding. “ **How much did Nute Gunray offer for your full cooperation in this affair**?”

“Thirty...” the emissary of Wat Tambor tried to resist the implacable injunction, only to fail. “Thirty...billion...Credits.”

A chorus of accusations, shrieks of outrage, offended humans and non-humans screaming at each other immediately erupted in the heart of the Senate, with the more corrupt representatives leading the accusers as in the hope of hiding their own crimes and sins.

“Senators,” Finis Valorum spoke again, and was blatantly ignored as the Senate feuds were brought into light in one of the most obvious manners possible. “ **Senators**! **BELIEVE**!”

The second word was a beacon of darkness, and it pulsed across the tens of thousands of sentient forms present today.

Sidious parried it by reflex; after the hellish training Plagueis had inflicted to his flesh and mind when the time came to claim the mantle of Apprenticeship, this compulsion was nothing really new. It was powerful, that much the Nabooian Sith was ready to acknowledge, but it was unsubtle and crude.

“It is my **belief** the Trade Federation has become nothing more than a tool for illegal Neimodian actions!” Finis Valorum thundered in a voice Palpatine had never heard him use before today. The effect was quite unlike any of his previous interventions. “It is my **belief** Viceroy Nute Gunray orders and violates the law of the Republic! **He isn’t the Senate**!”

Normally, Darth Sidious would have felt confident that the moment Valorum finished his first sentence, he would have been booed and thrown out of office the minutes it took to count the votes for the motion of no confidence. But impossibly, disabused and corrupt Senators he had known for decades were applauding, gleeful and dreamy expressions on their faces.

“The Trade Federation has **failed** to uphold its own trade chart and has become nothing more than a **Trade Dictatorship** in the service of Neimodia!” The Sith Lord was getting unhappier with every minute. The damage the Supreme Chancellor was doing to his plans was going to require a very thorough clean-up in the months to come. “Kuat, Balmorra, and Kilve should have representatives to ensure impartial oversight over the Federation. And yet more than a year after the tragedy of the assassinations on Eriadu, Viceroy Nute Gunray **lies** to us! He **lies** to you! He **lies** to the entire Galactic Republic!”

Sidious was disgusted, but far from surprised that Risi Lenoan, representing Kuat and the Kuat Sector, was one of the loudest voices shouting in approval of Valorum. The removal of Kuat from the Trade Federation had been an important foundation pillar of the Great Plan, Kuat Drive Yards being destined to become the arsenal of the new Republic Navy, and the Trade Federation a core force of the Separatist fleets. The Noble Houses of Kuat were not going to oppose anything which gave them back the power they had considered theirs two years ago.

“I humbly propose that the Trade Federation is to be returned to **its legitimate owners**! The tyranny of Nute Gunray will end, I swear! And the Chancellorship will ensure that **never again** a blockade or an invasion will be made by the Trade Federation! As **Supreme Chancellor** , I will not rest until Gunray is brought to justice and **replaced**!”

Sheev Palpatine felt the mental compulsion rising in power anew, and while he rid of it again, it was far from simple. Still, it was for the best. He had only to turn his head and watch the young face of Queen Padme Amidala to know the mind-control was strong and spreading across the entire Senate. The young Nabooian monarch was watching the Supreme Chancellor like one looked at a deity; worship and love had bloomed in her eyes and on her cheeks.

As if it was not worrying enough, the last word give him the urge to grit his teeth. Given how strong the inflexion was, the new Viceroy may be Valorum or one of his puppets.

“I will lead you to a new Age, Senators! **An Age of Order, Prosperity, and Imperialism**!”

And the bastard was stealing his lines now. Darth Sidious began to count to one hundred and mentally wondered how long it was going to take these damned Jedi to come and arrest Valorum.

Surely these fools were capable of noticing when the Galactic Senate was mind-controlled, no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darth Sidious is a masterful politician, and is able to make the Senate dance to his tune while other parties remain unaware of his crimes. Alas for him, his control is not absolute, not when there is a Dread Emperor specialised in mind-control targeting his powerbase...  
> Next story to be updated on my schedule: The End of Times.  
> The other links to the sites where I post my stories:  
> https://www.alternatehistory.com/forum/threads/an-impractical-guide-to-the-force.499018/  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13733439/1/An-Impractical-Guide-to-the-Force  
> www. p a treon .com / Antony444


	6. A Practical Guide to Massacre

Disclaimer: I do not own the revenge of the Sith Lords over this battered galaxy, the plagues they have unleashed, or any practical and impractical guides to make evil.

“ _Lo and Behold, I have brought peace to the Empire_.” Dread Empress Massacre, after ordering the Burning of Okoro.

**Nineteen years before the Battle of Yavin**

**Mustafar**

**Klegger Corp Mining Facility**

“I have dealt with the Separatist leaders, my Master,” the last two words were not easy to articulate, though Darth Vader had had plenty of occasions to become used to it these last days.

“Then it is over,” the holo-representation of Palpatine – of Darth Sidious – newly proclaimed Galactic Emperor spoke solemnly, “you have restored peace and justice in the galaxy. Well done, Lord Vader.”

The smirk which came after was filled with vengeful satisfaction, an emotion the destroyer of the Separatist Council shared. After spending years in worry of what the Neimodians and their greedy allies would do to the Republic if they smashed apart the defences blocking their way to the Core Worlds, after the Battle of Coruscant – whose victory had been paid in millions of casualties – after the blood and quadrillions of deaths, after Jabiim and Geonosis...it was over.

The Separatists had lost, and the cruelty and the atrocities they had committed because no one was powerful enough to stop them were going to be repaid in full.

“Send a message to the remaining flagships of the Separatist fleets.” The most powerful politician of the known galaxy commanded. “Now that the command codes of their battle-droids are in our hands, their only choices are surrender or death. I am willing to give them twelve standard hours to begin the dismantlement of their droid forces and the release of their capital ships into our custody. Past that delay, the circumstances will be...regrettable for them.”

“I will transmit the message, my Master.”

And with great pleasure, he didn’t add as the holo-communication ended. It had been a pleasure to terminate this vermin of Nute Gunray and his friends. Their fear had been so powerful after he had drawn it and begun to cut down the first of these alien parasites. But for all their influence and power, Vader knew there were many, many more Neimodians and other non-humans who had supported the massive armament programs destined to slaughter billions of clones, many of whom served and died under his watch.

Yes, the lack of control among these megacorporations had been a massive problem. There was a time when many humans had been able to decide at the top, but since before Naboo, there had only been Neimodians, Geonosians, and allies which managed the feat of being repulsive than them.

If he had his say, Vader wasn’t going to give them a future in the New Empire rising from the ashes the incompetence of the bureaucrats and the meekness and the betrayals of the Jedi had allowed to fester for too long.

And suddenly his thoughts were broken as an abandoned console beeped, and red-lighted screens showed the familiar shape of a Nabooian-built yacht descending into the red and black atmosphere of Mustafar.

“Padme.” When Anakin had revealed to her where he was going under the orders of the Supreme Chancellor – now Emperor – it had not been his intention to see his wife go anywhere near this volcanic world. In fact, it had been his intention for her to not go anywhere near a warzone, and preferably stay at Coruscant where excellent medical-tech was everywhere and the Separatist could be considered minimal now that Grievous’ offensive had near-null chances of repeating itself.

One thing was sure: it was absolutely not his intention to watch her come in what had been until today a Separatist base.

But she was here. This Nabooian yacht had been produced in reduced numbers thanks to the war screwing up everything, and most of them were flying in the Core, or were used by various policy-makers who had no clue he had been sent to Mustafar. Yes, he had researched the technical data and the specifics of these hulls more than a decade ago. Enough to know that of the hundred or so starships produced, the one of his wife was only surpassed in speed and technology by the one owned by the current Queen of Naboo.

The General of the 501st Legion began to run. It wasn’t a good sign by any means Padme was here, but he could salvage the situation.

At any rate, any possibility it might _not_ be his wife in this starship was broken as the boarding ramp was lowered and the Senator of Naboo appeared at the top of it.

She was magnificent. Her long black cloak hid most of the signs she was pregnant, and her posture and bearing were those of a Queen – her home planet should have kept her on the throne for this alone, in his biased opinion.

Yet what gave him pause as he arrived on the landing platform was how deliberately slowly she had chosen to leave her yacht, giving the two guards in blue armour of the Senatorial Guard the time to place themselves at each extremity of the ramp.

And as she showed no sign to jump in his arms, Anakin knew instinctively he was in big, _big_ trouble.

“Padme, this is not-“

“ _Anakin_.”

The voice of his wife had gained an edge of coldness he had rarely heard her use, safe when she berated on the Senate’s floor some imbecilic politician defending a position she abhorred.

“Did you remember I am sitting on the Senate Intelligence Oversight Committee?”

What did it have to do with-

Oh no, no.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to discover your little killings inside the Jedi Temple and across Separatist Space?” His wife asked drawing a holo-recorder from one of her cloak’s pockets and revealing an image of him cutting down some Jedi Padawan.

“Padme, I did this to bring an end to this war-“

His black-haired wife suddenly walked towards him and struck without warning.

SLAP!

“Do you think I care about that?” The former Nabooian Queen hissed. “I don’t care if you slew ten thousand or a million Jedi in the Temple chambers! I don’t care if you want to slaughter a few tribes of Sand People every month! Men are men, and you aren’t good to master your urges.”

Err...what? She wasn’t unhappy about him massacring children or Separatist by surprise? But then-

SLAP!

Suddenly, his left cheek was feeling the same pain his right cheek had experienced moments before.

“What I care,” Padme hissed, and for all her eyes weren’t the yellow of Darth Sidious, Anakin felt the unpleasant emotion of fear in his veins, “is that I am your wife, the mother of your children, the other half you have sworn yourself to until death tears us apart, and yet, you follow the orders of Palpatine like a mind-wiped _droid_ without asking for my opinion on the subject!”

“Padme, this was the best solution-“

“ _Anakin_.” His first name uttered like this was like a glacial shower. “Who is the politician of our couple? You or me?”

“You,” the new Sith Apprentice grunted reluctantly.

“Then don’t go tell me you have found the best solution of a thousand when your little killing-spree has placed in putting us on the hit-list of millions of potential assassins!”

“Assassins?” he repeated blandly.

“You slaughtered Nute Gunray and his allies without jamming their communications or even bothering to switch down their communicators before you ran your lightsaber through them,” Padme informed him with an expression which was tiredness mixed with exasperation. “Given that you didn’t bother wearing a helmet or use any method to disguise your identity, do you really expect the entirety of Separatist Space is going to be very happy knowing the legendary Anakin Skywalker has deactivated their droid armies and made sure this war is lost for them?”

In hindsight, maybe his decisions to not use anything save his black cloak to cover his head had not...been his best idea.

“I already had to use my agents inside the Republican fleets to send several squadrons against Separatist communication relays to stop the spreading of this information as fast as possible in order to limit the potential damage,” the Senator of the Republic-turned-Empire affirmed. “If I wasn’t pregnant, dispatching so many assassins wouldn’t be a problem, but I prefer to keep this level of opposition far away as long as our children aren’t of teenage age.”

“You see-“

“ **Be quiet**.” His rage disappeared, and his jaw clacked, neutralised by something icy and powerful...something which felt like the Dark Side but was not the Dark Side. “I exhausted myself running from fire to fire trying to clean up your messes. Fortunately for you, _I_ was the one who arrived first in the Jedi Temple Archives, not Obi-Wan, Yoda, or Palpatine.”

“Obi-Wan is alive?” Whatever force was keeping him silent, it was insufficient to hold as felt once again his rage and his anger power up. His former Master had surely been well-versed in the plot to overthrow the Chancellor and-

SLAP!

“ **Focus** , _husband_ ,” the smile of Padme was so stern he took a step back. “Unless, of course, you want to be banned from our marital bed for several years and discover the joys of _sexual abstinence_.”

Anakin shuddered.

“Padme, I realise I’ve screwed up. But we don’t need to hide our relationship anymore! I am the second most powerful man of the Republic! I can overthrow the Chancellor and we will rule the galaxy together!”

“No, certainly not.”

“Padme?”

“Anakin, don’t misunderstand me, you are a genius on the battlefield, but in politics...well, I would prefer to nominate a _Gungan_ as Supreme Chancellor.”

The newly acclaimed Sith known as Darth Vader gaped, unable to react vocally to the insult.

“You are a proficient Force-user, and an expert in lightsaber fighting. But in politics, you would be a _disaster_. Your suggestion to kill Palpatine betrays your monumental incomprehension of how the Senate works. Right now, so many citizen privileges have been cancelled and so many security laws have been passed to empower the Supreme Chancellor that our new Emperor **_is_** the Senate in every way that matters. End his life, and the newborn Empire he is trying to create will not last the year.”

“But...”

“I have pledged my allegiance to him and joined his Centrists, of course,” his wife continued, deliberately ignoring him. “I have excellent hopes that in five to six years, I will be able to rise sufficiently above the other challengers to be recognised as his political successor.”

“There are too many bureaucrats who will oppose you!”

“Anakin.” Padme gave him one of his most charming smiles. “I did not arrive at a score of ninety-nine percent of popularity representing the Chommell Sector without removing a few loudmouths and burying the bodies very deeply. The difference between I and you, however, is that I’m good at cleaning my messes after I release some of my frustration.”

The female Senator clicked her fingers.

“Palpatine is too important right now for the stability of the Empire. Of course he’s old, and we are young. _Assuming you come to me before committing more stupidities_ , we may be able to turn this to our advantage.”

“He...wants...he wants my help to find immortality. He said together we could prevent death from...”

Padme looked at him with a pitying expression, and Anakin Skywalker, Fearless Hero, Chosen One, and owner of a thousand more titles, knew deep in his guts he had been a puppet in service of his new ‘Master’.

Of course now his wife was giving the orders so in the last minutes he had only been trading away an ugly master for a beautiful mistress.

“ **Kneel**.”His wife ordered, and his body obeyed before he truly understood what was going on. “No more mistakes. No more improvised massacres. No more stupidities of keeping secrets from me. From today and for the rest of your life, **I am your Empress**. If you follow my orders you will have the galactic realm you seem so fond of. If you don’t...I am soon going to give birth to my children, so don’t think I will have any qualms keeping you sleeping on the couch for several years.”

Anakin winced and decided he really, really wanted to avoid a future like the one Padme was describing.

Lights and the familiar sound of a starfighter descending towards the mining complex of Mustafar manifested themselves. And the Force told him there was a familiar presence aboard it.

“Obi-Wan.”

“It seems the inventive course plotted by my navigation computers weren’t enough to fool him,” the Senator of Naboo agreed. “Idiot, I would have ignored him if he crawled into a hole and removed himself from galactic affairs.”

Implacable eyes stared at him.

“I am returning to Coruscant. Fight him, and this time make sure the job is done. I am not in the mood to tolerate more stupidity today, and the lava environment is not one which allows for the kind of mistakes your power-thirst led you to commit.”

“Yes, Padme.”

“A **Massacre** is not necessary bad to stabilise an Empire, husband. But the **Massacre** has to remain the means, not the end. And you have to be a good judge of your strength. True Invincibility doesn’t exist, and power is a fickle mistress.”

Anakin almost sighed in relief as the Nabooian yacht departed and Obi-Wan advanced lightsaber in hand. Compared to facing his wife, this duel against the Negotiator was not looking _that_ terrible...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Anakin manage to change history, or will he discover the ‘joys’ of being on the bad side of a former Dread Empress renowned for purging violently her opponents?  
> Sidious, needless to say, should also tremble; beware the fury of an angered wife, dear Sith Lord...  
> The other links to the sites where I post my stories:  
> www. alternatehistory forum /threads /an-impractical-guide-to-the-force .499018/  
> www. p a treon Antony444  
> archiveofourown works /27421807 /chapters /67028977


	7. A Practical Guide to Malignancy

Disclaimer: I don’t own Darth Vader. I don’t own the Galactic Empire. And I don’t have the habit to execute my subordinates or the messenger announcing the unpleasant information.

“ _Look, if he didn’t want to be fed to my acid-spewing crocodiles he shouldn’t have brought me bad news_.” Dread Emperor Malignant II, the Particularly Petty

**Three years after the Battle of Yavin**

**Outer Rim Territories**

**Anoat Sector**

**Hoth System**

**Super Star Destroyer _Executor_**

When the ground opened under his and Ozzel’s feet, Captain Firmus Piett of the Imperial Navy knew that a Sergeant had won the bets he wasn’t supposed to be aware of. Darth Vader was not furious. His anger, already infamously legendary, had grown far beyond that.

Firmus had enough time to wonder how bad it was going to be before the metallic toboggan they were gliding upon ejected them upon the secondary bridge of the _Executor_.

Where they found Darth Vader busy crucifying an officer bearing the insignia of a Lieutenant against the wall.

The screams of pain proved, if there was any question about it, that it was certainly the real deal and that the execution was done without anaesthesia or any pain-removing method.

Despite all his battle-experience and his ability to keep a stony expression, the Captain swallowed heavily. The ground of the second bridge had already several corpses upon it, and only an imbecile could miss that the ‘special pool’ had been installed behind them.

This was why he had always tried to avoid the ‘exhilarating promotion’ leading to the ‘exalted rank’ of Admiral.

The higher you rose in the Imperial Navy, the higher the probability you were called to serve personally under Vader.

“Admiral Kendal Ozzel,” the infamous metallic voice grumbled between hisses as the chest of the crucified man was caved in by an invisible force. “I learned of your career during the Clone Wars, you know.”

Any person would have treated this as a very bad thing, but the Admiral by Firmus’ side was not known for his cleverness.

“Really, Lord Vader? I am-“

“I always considered that one of the largest evidence of Separatist incompetence was their inability to defeat you,” the Fist of His Imperial Majesty continued. “Reports of competent officers were unsure if you were disloyal, easily manipulated, or just of a stupidity breaking human limitations.”

“Lord Vader, I must protest-“

“I have seen non-human pirates displaying more courage and tactical skills than you.”

“Lord Vader, I must-‘

“You will be pleased to know I have ordered a complete inspection of certain Naval Academies in the Core. If they are able to train someone like you, there’s no telling how many imbeciles they have waiting at the Navy headquarters. And I am also going to personally go to your homeworld of Carida the moment the rebellion is removed from my list of problems. Many people say that stupidity is genetic, and in your case I am not sure a long study is going to disprove the theory.”

“Lord Vader, I-“

No more words went out of the mouth of Ozzel, as the man suddenly paled and began to struggle, his hands finding themselves against his throat trying to release an invisible grip which caused him terrible breathing problems.

“Not only you have the gall to contest my exquisite plan when I explained it to you, ex-Admiral, you had the idiotic temerity to change it for one of your nonsensical ideas! The rebels are aware of our presence now, and have activated their energy shields, preventing an easy and crushing victory! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“GAAAAH!” the...the sorcery Vader used momentarily disappeared, and Kendal Ozzel fell on his knees.

“Gaah?” The Grand Marshal of the Empire inclined his sinister helmet in a very disapproving expression. “Pathetic, and not even expressed correctly. I’ve known droids who had more guts than you, and who faced death with more dignity.”

Darth Vader paused. Firmus and most of the officers present on the secondary bridge, minus Ozzel, winced and prepared for the worst.

“After deep reflexion, I have decided you won’t be crucified.”

“My Lord, thank you!”

“My reptilian pets deserve a meal, and I want to see if your stupidity has contaminated your flesh or if it’s just one of these nonsensical proverbs.”

The same powers which had almost killed Ozzel by strangulation were felt again as the current highest ranked representative of the Navy went flying into the large pool specially built there on Vader’s orders.

It took less than three seconds for the carnivorous species swimming in it to acknowledge the arrival of the disgraced Admiral. From that point, their aggression and hunger ensured they swarmed Ozzel in less than five seconds and as their large maws opened, all Navy and Army commanding officers were given excellent views of the creatures’ fangs and claws.

The colour of the water had been a mixture of blue and green until now. As Ozzel was devoured body part by body part, the shade could be best described as a deep crimson. Soon enough, even the bones would be devoured. The reptiles’ fangs had no difficulties digesting bones if given the time.

“Now that I have properly explained to you the price of disobeying my orders,” Vader commented as if it was perfectly natural to murder an Admiral in such a way, but given his infamous career, it probably was...for him, anyway. “Let’s return to the battle against the rebels. With the incompetence of Admiral Ozzel having destroyed our original plans, what are your suggestions...Admiral Piett?”

The tone was sufficiently threatening that Firmus Piett found zero joy in his mind and body about his sudden and prestigious ‘promotion’.

“The energy shields of the rebels may be able to resist the bombardment of this fleet, Lord Vader, but as proved by the information provided by the Viper probes, they were forced to build cooling conduits on the surface and extensive structures to better stabilise the energetic projections. I think a close blockade coordinated with a full-fledged ground assault is the best strategy we have available now.”

It was obviously not going to be cheap for the Imperial stormtroopers. Every scrap of information the Empire had been able to obtain on Hoth suggested extremely hostile weather and terrain conditions on the surface, where a lot of armoured vehicles and artillery support wouldn’t be able to be deployed. The rebels, on the other hand, were solidly entrenched. They had weeks at best, months at worst, to fortify themselves and build their defences. At this moment, Piett was thanking his parents for having pushed him to choose the Navy over the Army.

Whatever Vader had been able to answer, the Captain-promoted-Admiral would never know, as the enemy chose this moment to hit the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer _Tyrant_ with what was certainly a super-battery of ion cannons. The less said about the medium GR-75 transport and the two X-Wings painted in rebel colours which escaped, the better.

And now the legendary temper of the dark-armoured supreme commander of Death Squadron was gaining in viciousness and the punishment didn’t wait long to arrive.

“Captain Lennox, this error was your last!” the commanding officer of the Tyrant, who had deliberately approached the sixth planet of the Hoth system to be in firing position before the other Star Destroyers, had not the time to protest and died as his throat was crushed by the same invisible force which had brought Ozzel to his knees. “Lieutenant Cabbel, you are now in command. Congratulations, _Captain_ Cabbel. Repair the damaged systems of the _Tyrant_ and return in formation with the _Avarice_ in the next fifteen minutes.”

The former Lieutenant nodded vigorously and saluted before cutting the formation. Piett didn’t blame his celerity. No ‘or else’ or ‘don’t fail me, Captain’ had been uttered, but the corpse of your predecessor was a message which could rarely be mistaken for something else.

“Admiral Piett.”

“Yes, Lord Vader?”

“Your plan is not devoid of qualities, but time is playing against us here. Moreover, the rebels are forced to open their energy shields to fire at us and allow their transports to escape the planet. As such, I want a full orbital bombardment against this shield.”

“To avoid the fate of the _Tyrant_ , we will have to rely on our turbolasers at long-range, my Lord,” Piett took great care to phase it as the description of a tactical outcome, not as a protestation. “With our...distinct lack of precision, the collateral damage to the planet and the ground upheavals it will cause will make difficult the deployment of Major-General Veers’ troops if we decide on a ground assault after all.”

“They are _heroes_ in this base,” Vader replied with such venom that several bridge officers took a step back. “And I have a pattern of three with Skywalker. They will survive no matter what Death Squadron unleashes against them. And who cares about the frozen wastes of Hoth when we have already destroyed Alderaan?”

Silently, Firmus Piett really acknowledged the good sense of the Imperial propagandists and the newspapers to stay as far away as physically possible from the Grand Marshal of the Galactic Empire.

“Order all heavy and medium turbolaser batteries to concentrate their fire on Sector T-7,” the newly promoted Admiral ordered to his chief of staff. “The _Executor_ ’s fire must target the zone where we have visual confirmation of energy generators. Our Imperial II escorts will detect all fluctuations in the field and strike at any opening the rebels provide us. Launch a third of our TIE fighters. With no ground forces to strike against, I expect we are going to see X-Wings very soon.”

The result of his orders was visible in mere seconds. The red energy of the turbolasers began to strike the energy field defending the rebel base, and for the first seconds, it was deflected and nothing happened.

But as more and more batteries of the Executor fired, soon joined by the ‘minor’ addition of twenty-nine Star Destroyers, the dangers of having only a theatre shield instead of a planetary shield became all too evident. The shots deflected by the shields were energy too, and all this energy had to go _somewhere_.

As the turbolaser fire of the Super Star Destroyer was compared by engineers as a miniature volcanic explosion sometimes and Hoth VI was a very cold planet, the result was unavoidably...a lot of vapour. It was extremely eye-catching viewed from orbit. On the ground, things had to be more on the side of disastrous and cataclysmic, depending on how many cubic metres of water were released at once near the rebel defences.

It also gave the Imperial Star Destroyers firing at it the exact dimensions of the shield. As the bombardment continued and new orders were barked, the rebels’ sole and only major protection had to pour energy to resist the turbolasers and the explosions and water-shockwaves of icebergs melting in a few seconds.

“This is a cliff they won’t be able to jump from,” Vader declared as observing the detail of the operations from his command seat. “And at last, I will be able to have a proper conversation with the youngster who believed it was a good idea to destroy our _Death Star_.”

Vader’s voice, for reasons Firmus preferred not to think too much about, was dripping eagerness and malice.

“Incidentally, send a message to Imperial Centre, low priority, black clearance. His Majesty must be informed I have once again decided to raise the quota of officers I am allowed to execute per year.”

Everyone on the secondary bridge busied himself or herself with the actualisation of the bombardment orders. They had no desire to be the ‘plus one’ in the aforementioned quotas.

“Lord Vader! A message from the rebels! They are saying...ARRGH!”

Firmus turned fast enough to see the scapegoat chosen by the officers of the holo-communications’ section be splattered against the wall, smoking and screaming.

“Who...do they think...they are?” Each word was accompanied by a scream of agony of his current victim. “Does...Skywalker...believe...he...is...a...match...for me?”

The messenger fell silent.

“I am **Malignant** ,” the terror of Admirals and rebels alike hissed furiously, “Admiral Piett, stop the bombardment. I have decided a death by turbolaser is too good for them!”

Everyone stayed very quiet and for several seconds, this part of the Executor was as quiet as a graveyard in rainy season. The rebels were dead...if they were lucky, they would die weapons in hand. Being prisoners aboard the _Executor_ was a fate difficult to wish to your worst enemy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The officers of the Imperial Navy were already suffering from Vader’s tantrum in canon, with Malignant at the helm, things have definitely gotten worse. And it’s not over...  
> The other links to the sites where I post my stories:  
> www. alternatehistory forum /threads /an-impractical-guide-to-the-force .499018/  
> www. p a treon Antony444  
> 


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